


Another Day

by Copacabana



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bruises, College, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flirting, Hot Weather, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I will add more tags as I go, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm still trying to figure this out ok, Lifeguards, M/M, Mutual Pining, Name-Calling, POV Third Person, Pining, Self-Destruction, Slow Burn, Teasing, Unrequited Love, What am I doing, no beta we die like men, pov switching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:13:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27522841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Copacabana/pseuds/Copacabana
Summary: The alarm turned itself off and there was; yet again, another moment of peace. Unfortunately silence must be broken someway or another. The alarm awoke once again, blaring its annoying song while vibrating rapidly against the cold nightstand, still on its charger.An angry groan sounded with hurried shuffling from the bed, "Alright! Okay! I'm up!" the boy shouted as he pushed himself up right, sitting on the bed with a taunt expression on his face. He snatched the inanimate object, ripped it from where the charger once was, and pressed forcefully on the screen; ending the obnoxious sound. He sighed heavily, slightly shaken from the rude awakening he was met with so early. He had a major headache, yet couldn't remember why.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Darryl Noveschosch/Sapnap, Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound/Darryl Noveschosch, Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Zak Ahmed/Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Darryl Noveschosch, Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Heyhey! This fanfic used to be called "Beach Boy/Nerd Boy" on wattpad, which is basically a dream team lifeguard/college au I made back in June- but decided to switch to ao3 since I could never keep up well there. Not only that, but the way the story was first planned out to be didn't match the vibe I wanted it to be in the end and some drama with a character happened... so I guess this is my way of redoing it? Of course, this will still be a 'write as i go' kinda dealio but with more of a plan since writing without one is so messy.  
> anyway I do hope you enjoy what I've go so far!

The room was lit in a hazy blue light as the morning sun was starting to peak above the horizon line, almost as if saying ‘Hello’ to a new day. The blue light reflected itself on multiple things; the scattered clothes on the floor, a polyester green surf boards' newly polished surface, and the carefully carved dark oak of a nightstand nearby. Sitting on the nightstand was a glass dome, almost molded into a tear-shape with an intricate design of a teal and royal blue jellyfish, looking as if it were trapped inside of the delicate glass. 

As the morning sun rose higher, shimmering light managed to slowly crawl its way into the glass ornament whilst shining a bright, light blue ray on the bed next to the nightstand. A small, frustratingly tired groan could be heard, followed by noises of slight shuffling and a small sigh of detest. 

A boy, attempting to regain his comfort, was sleeping lazily on his stomach. His limbs were spread in weird positions under a tangled mess of the blanket upon him. The boy was sleeping peacefully, that was until the beaming rays of morning shone into his now half-opened, forest-green eyes. He ventured to move his exhausted figure and bury his head into his comfortable pillow, but realized it was futile when he encountered his mattress instead. The pillow was on the wooden ground; tossed and forgotten there in the night, due to his restlessness in the Floridian heat.

There was only so much one boy could do without minimum effort. He lifted one of his arms with another worn-out sigh, positioning his hand right above his face attempting to block out the light that was currently blinding him. The boy let go of the strength he used in his arm, letting his hand lazily fall hard, inevitably meeting with his face. His hand slid down right above his eyes, covering them from the overwhelming glare of the jellyfish globe’s reflections.

Silence.

The room was serene once more as the boy let himself fall back into his pleasant slumber, dust settling back onto its unnerved surfaces. Soft tweeting of Finches could be heard as they perched themselves among the phone wires and tree branches. The streets were abnormally quiet, apart from the usual lone cars murmuring by. The sun was still slowly rising, eventually reaching its’ 6 o’clock position.

A sudden alarm goes off, breaking the once-tranquil silence of the room. It lasted a few rings, as if trying to be recognized by someone who set it mere hours ago. 

Ignored. 

The alarm turned itself off and there was; yet again, another moment of peace. Unfortunately silence must be broken someway or another. The alarm awoke once again, blaring its annoying song while vibrating rapidly against the cold nightstand, still on its charger.

An angry groan sounded with hurried shuffling from the bed, "Alright! Okay! I'm up!" the boy shouted as he pushed himself up right, sitting on the bed with a taunt expression on his face. He snatched the inanimate object, ripped it from where the charger once was, and pressed forcefully on the screen; ending the obnoxious sound. He sighed heavily, slightly shaken from the rude awakening he was met with so early. He had a major headache, yet couldn't remember why.

The boy tossed his phone aside, yawned, and scratched his sand colored bedhead. He shivered, missing the warmth of his 'covers'. He wasn't wearing a pajama shirt, just his dark green plaid pajama pants and light grey socks. The boy had a toned body; his skin was a golden tan, sunkissed in a few patches with littered freckles all over his complexion. A few darker spots dotted around his torso and face; most likely caused by sun damage.

The boy stared out of the window from his unmade bed, the blinds partially lifted to let the sun have its peak throughout his cozy room. Figuring there really wasn't anything to do in his room, the boy sighed as he removed himself from the bed and begrudgingly left the area. 

His home was a one floor house, lifted high above the ground due to hurricanes and floods that occurred oh so often. If there was one thing anyone in Florida- and really, anyone down South could wish for, it'd probably be less damaging floods and highwinds from the recurring hurricanes.

The boy walked through a short hallway from his room, passing his bathroom and a small space, just big enough for a computer set to fit in between, and into the living room. He searched for the T.V. remote, successfully finding it between some throw pillows on a loveseat, and pressed the red power button, turning on. The T.V. sounded with a small jingle and the stereos kicked. With a loud 'pop' and crackle, the bigger stereos stole the T.V.'s stereo sound and projected its better audio.

The news was on, reporting what had happened during the night and the daily forecast.

"It will be a beautiful day today. Not expecting a single cloud in the sky. Humidity will be at a low and temperatures will range from 93°-101° Fahrenheit, getting high around lunch time and dwindling down to the 80's mid afternoon- perfect day for the beach! Wouldn't you agree, Niki?" the Weatherman grinned at the camera, and the screen swapped to the anchorwoman.

"I absolutely do, Ponk! Maybe I'll take a trip out there myself!" The anchorwoman grinned passionately, folding her hands together in a loose fashion. 

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea! I might have to tag along!" The Weatherman chuckled with the reporter.

_ Seems like they're still at it.  _ the boy mentally noted with a small smile as he was leaning against a large recliner. He turned the volume down, intending for it to be background noise, and sat the remote down on the recliner’s armrest. He only took a few steps backward before already finding himself in the kitchen. There wasn't any separation between the rooms, just the private ones. The boy sighed, looking around. He didn't have much out, food wise. Just the usual bread, a half-empty fruit bowl, coffee maker, a toaster between the fridge and the wall, and a microwave at the edge of the kitchen counter. He subtly noted the red Solo cups scattered around the place, which made him scrunch his face in confusion.

He only took a few steps forward to pick up the nearest cup, when he suddenly heard a small 'thunk' somewhere in the room. He quickly halted as his eyes narrowed, growing suspicious. More disreputable shuffling came from the room, anxiety pricking up in the boy's chest. Hesitantly, he placed the cup back down and took a few steps forward, trying to work up the courage to speak. When he finally did, his deep voice wavered slightly, "Hello...?" He called cautiously, every sense of his was on edge. 

The shuffling stopped, and the air was completely still. There was only the quiet T.V. making noise while playing a jingle from an ad that played often. Suddenly, a head popped from the corner, where the boy's laundry and trash area was. Bleach blonde hair draped down, and the head scooted forward to reveal the rest of the body. There was a girl, tanned to an obnoxiously loud orange. Her hair was down to her waist, and body practically screamed plastic as she wore a tight tank-top and high rise shorts.

"H-hey," the girl finally spoke, shuffling her arms behind her, "how are you?"

The boy eyed her subconsciously, he was absolutely befuddled. He wondered to himself what he did the night before, but only a splitting pain appeared, instead of the memories from last night. The boy grabbed his head, trying to massage the headache to ease away. The girl silently gasped and rushed over, trying to help the boy. Her hands came out of hiding, and they revealed one of them to be holding a red bomber jacket.

The girl tried to place her free hand on the boy's back, but he only swatted it away, the girl looked down, giving him a tiny, offended huff and backed away a few steps. He planted his arms on the table to support himself and glanced over to the girl with one eye. He noticed the red jacket and immediately glared at her, attempting to open the other eye as well.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" he asked accusingly, the words coming out harsher than intended. 

The girl took a moment to recover from the glare and hostile question, "I-I'm Kaylie... don't you remember me? We always talked at the beach post. You invited me and a few friends to your party last night... and we chatted for a bit... and..." the girl looked away and blushed.

The boy thought for a second, recalling what happened last night. His face shifted from agony to slight terror. The boy immediately masked it up with hate and stood up properly, letting go of his handicap. He took a few steps toward the girl and raised a hand, looming over. The girl flinched, and he swiped his hand down, snatching the jacket from the girl's hand.

"Get out." he grumbled.

"E-excuse me?"

"You heard me, get out." The boy scoffed, surely the girl wasn't so plastic to the point of being deaf.

The girl made motions toward the boy, trying to reason with him, "B-but... Y-you can't! We're a thing now! I can't leave you-" the girl was interrupted with a slam on the nearby coffee table. The girl flinched, taken aback by the sudden movement. 

"I said, get.  _ Out! _ " yelled the boy. the girl hesitantly backed away, and finally turned around towards the front door. She turned the metal handle and opened the white wooden barrier to the outside world. The girl glanced back at him with a slight glare, "I'll be back..." and shut the door behind her with a slam.

The boy sighed and placed the jacket on the table. He looked around the room for his phone, but remembered he left it back in his room. With a heavy sigh, the boy walked over to the kitchen counter, undid the bread bag's tie, and took three pieces out. He plugged in the toaster that was stashed in the corner between the wall and fridge, sticking two slices of bread into the machine. The boy took a third piece in his mouth, eating it as is. He pushed down on the lever and heard it click, signaling that his breakfast was now cooking, leaving him free to leave whilst waiting. 

The boy stalked across his living room once again, back into the small hallway, and into his bedroom. He searched the scene for his phone; spotting it on his bed that he carelessly tossed earlier. Knowing where it was now, the boy took the chance to get ready for the day. He finished the rest of the bread he took earlier, picking up a few garments around the room. He placed the pajamas that the boy changed out of on his bed, now wearing his presumably clean swim trunks and a white shirt he found astray around his room. A soft click sounded, following with a quick ‘ding’, signifying that the toast was now done.

He stuffed his phone in the back pocket of his bright, tangerine colored swimming trunks. The boy surveyed his room once more before spotting a small, orange duffle bag in the corner near the closet. He walked over, picked it up, and slung it over his shoulder in one motion. The black straps from the bag scratched along his neck, the white shirt not providing much protection from the uncomfortable feeling it caused.

Figuring he had everything he needed, the boy left his room, closing the door behind him. Once he reached the kitchen again, he focused on the small pantry door next to the laundry room. He grabbed the short wooden handle knob and opened the tiny enclosure. He reached inside of the almost-empty space, taking out a jar of chunky peanut butter. The boy stuck the peanut butter jar under his arm, reaching into the pantry to grab another jar, this time of grape jam.

He used the back of his hand to push the pantry door shut, turning back to the counter with the toaster. The toaster had the two pieces of heated bread sticking out, ready to be put on a paper plate. The boy set down the two jars, opened a drawer, and took out a small butter knife. He used the knife, attempting to fish out the toast while practically stabbing them. Unscrewing the jars, he dipped the butter knife into the peanut butter, spreading it on one of the two toasts’. He dipped the same butter knife into the grape jam, not caring about mixing the two spreads, and did the same to the other piece of toast.

The boy screwed the lids back onto the jars pushing them back against the wall, not really wanting to place them back in the pantry right away. He flipped the jam toast onto the peanut butter side; the opposite way any normal person would. He picked it up with one hand and took a bite out of it. The boy leaned his back against the counter and took out his phone with his free hand. As he turned it on, the digital clock said 7:14 AM, leaving him a bit of time left to spare before he had to get going.

Tapping on the screen, he opened the Messenger app on his phone and found a contact under his favorites list, 'Pandas'. He tapped on the name and a chat log appeared. The boy took another bite out of the PB&J sandwich while he typed away,

'Hey you up?'

There was a moment of silence while the boy was waiting for a response, which allowed the boy to take a few more bites of the sandwich that he was enjoying. The notification he was waiting for sounded as a message appeared on his screen,

'yea wassup'

The boy felt a little relieved knowing his go-to was awake and responding to his messages. The throbbing in the back of his head slightly appeared once more, irking him.

'What the hell happened last night?'

Another moment of silence, the boy took another bite out of his sandwich. 

'u fr dont remember? did u get that wasted cuz damn.'

The boy huffed, rolling his eyes in annoyance.  _ Apparently wasted enough to sleep with that thing... _

'No I rlly don't remember jackshit dude'

'im p sure there was nobody named jack there lol'

'Nick.'

'srry lmao- but u threw a party dude- it was p lit ngl'

The boy cringed, this conversation was going nowhere. He sighed as he typed his response;

'I'm heading out, see you in a bit.'

He stuck his phone back in his pocket, finished the sandwich he was snacking on, and walked over to his front door. The boy bent over and slid his feet into a pair of kilchis shoes without wearing socks. Straightening himself before going out, he grabbed a pair of keys that were hooked upon the wall and slowly opened the front door. The warmth of the sun hit him as he took in the fresh, Floridian breeze.

He walked out and turned, shutting his front door and locking it up. The boy took in a deep breath, as he gripped the warm, wooden handrail and trotted down the steps from the raised platform. At the bottom, he rounded the stairs and stood underneath his house, where cars would usually be parked and stored. There was another smaller building that looked closer to a shed, which also connected to the boy's main house.

The boy didn't own a car, figuring it was pointless; there was, however, a bike propped against the shed. He walked over to it and gripped the handles as he kicked its' stand up. He led the bike out from under the house, the sun's light hitting the metal, causing it to radiate a gentle amount of heat surrounding it. The tires were bigger than normal, and the paint job on the bike was average. There was a basket in the back, which he used to place the orange duffel bag in. The yellow and lime green paint of the bike chipped in a few places, and rust built in corners from weather conditions, giving it a rustic gleam in the blistering sun.

No matter, the boy loved the bike all the same. He shuffled inside his duffle bag in search of an item, eventually taking out a pair of white headphones. The boy took his phone out and powered it on, successfully turning on Bluetooth once it was fully ready to be used. He held down on a button he located on the headphones, slipping them on over his head with a satisfied grunt of approval.

The boy heard a monotone female voice, “Connecting," and after waiting a few moments another monotone female voice saying: "Connected." signified that he was ready to go. 

He tapped on Spotify and selected his go-to playlist titled 'Another Day'. The music started playing in his headphones, a small grin curling upon his face. He placed his phone in the duffle bag instead of his back pocket, fearing it may fall out while he was riding his bike, even with the deep pockets his swim trunks had, and zipped the duffle bag shut with a contented sigh.

He hopped up on the bike and took another deep breath. Over his music he thought to himself, recalling the playlist's name,

_ Another day, Clay.  _


	2. The Sevi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As cars whizzed by, Clay stuck to the side of the road- in the bike lane. The city of Pensacola was now alive and bustling with business, as usual. People were awake, walking up and down the sidewalks, entering and leaving establishments.
> 
> Clay, listening to music, couldn't hear the blooming life around him. The sun shone in his face, making him regret not wearing sunglasses. He squinted through the blinding light and slowed down. Clay maneuvered his bike up the curb ramp, and stopped by the crosswalk. He leaned over to let his foot take over the weight and reached over.
> 
> Pressing a faded button, he looked up to the crosswalk light, seeing the red dotted hand. Clay directed his attention to the passing cars, then the hanging stoplight. The light he was at usually changed quickly during morning hours, so Clay didn't have to wait long for the light to show its' yield, then its' stop. The passing cars that were rushing through now came to a halt, allowing the waiting cars to continue onward. The crosswalk light changed its red hand to a green "GO".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey all! i was not expecting so many hits on the prologue, so it made me really happy! this chapter- and probably onward, will be written a bit differently from the prologue since my friend helped flesh it out :) i know my writing isnt as good but i promise im trying to get better lol  
> anyway, i hope you enjoy this chapter- i dont have a consistent upload schedule since i never did get far on wattpad, but ill try my hardest to still keep updating! the next chapter needs to be finished and revised, and the whole base story needs to be planned out since i was writing without a draft,,,

As cars whizzed by, Clay stuck to the side of the road- in the bike lane. The city of Pensacola was now alive and bustling with business, as usual. People were awake, walking up and down the sidewalks, entering and leaving establishments.

Clay, listening to music, couldn't hear the blooming life around him. The sun shone in his face, making him regret not wearing sunglasses. He squinted through the blinding light and slowed down. Clay maneuvered his bike up the curb ramp, and stopped by the crosswalk. He leaned over to let his foot take over the weight and reached over.

Pressing a faded button, he looked up to the crosswalk light, seeing the red dotted hand. Clay directed his attention to the passing cars, then the hanging stoplight. The light he was at usually changed quickly during morning hours, so Clay didn't have to wait long for the light to show its' yield, then its' stop. The passing cars that were rushing through now came to a halt, allowing the waiting cars to continue onward. The crosswalk light changed its red hand to a green "GO".

Clay pushed off the ground and planted his resting foot back on the empty bike pedal, and rushed to the other side. He skipped the sidewalk and got himself back in the bike lane. His shirt- being thin, let a warm, yet cool breeze through the fabric. His bright colored swim trunks wrinkled and creased every time his legs came up, and his shoes slipped slightly from his heels from the lack of socks.

The wind from the passing cars pushed against him, but Clay has gotten used to being pushed around. The buildings were thinning out, and turning into a beach view area. The road was now open; the sidewalks ramped up from the tire streaked pavement with bars as barriers, and the bike lane became nonexistent.

Clay was merging toward the side of the sidewalk when his music stopped abruptly; the familiar robotic voice taking over shortly,

"New messages received from 'Pandas'." There was a moment of silence, and the robotic voice spoke again with the same sentence.

The music resumed, fading back into the headphones. Clay couldn't check his phone, so he decided on pulling into a convenience store that was just up ahead. The dark, pine-green and red sign shot up from the cracked gray concrete.

Clay started to slow down and peak over his shoulder, looking for a break in the traffic. After a few cars passed, he noticed his chance and looked forward; making sure he was clear in his front. Approved, he looked back once more and lifted his left hand out, sticking it out to the side as a signal.

He leaned left on his bike and cut through the gap between the lanes. Clay zipped into the convenience store's entrance and gripped the bike's brake lever, slowing him down now that he was in the cracked parking lot of the 7-Eleven. The 7-Eleven looked old; graffiti tags along the side walls and creeping their way to the front, the bricks were dark and blackened with white patches of efflorescence, and the sign above the windows and doors were spotted with bird crap and built-up dead insects.

Clay bunny hopped his bike on top of the store's sidewalk and pressed down on the brake lever again, coming to a complete stop. His weight made the bike topple sideways, but he caught himself before falling. He lifted his other leg and brought it up and over the bike seat, reuniting it with the other leg.

Clay gripped the handles and guided the bike to the bicycle racks. He placed it inside one of the empty slots and dug in his duffle bag. He took out a thick rope and bent down, tying the bike frame down to the metal with a standard knot. He stood back up and took his wallet and phone from his duffle bag; unlocking it and pausing the music.

Clay used his free hand to slip off the headphones from his head to his shoulders while he checked the messages Nick sent. Clay walked towards the entrance to the 7-Eleven, but his attention was more at the phone.

He read Nick's messages,

‘im @ the shack’

‘hurry up theres ppl already drownin’ and snorted. Clay typed up a response with one hand and used the other to open the door.

‘What do you want from Sevi?’

'Sevi' was their own term for 7-Eleven since they both hated long words. He stuffed his phone in his back pocket as he was greeted by a chime. He surveyed the store, looking over the shelves. Clay took a few steps forward and heard a chair scratch the tiled floor.

"Yo, Clay, what's up?" a tan man asked with a grin. The man wore a pine green polo with a bright embroidered seven in the front. His black hair was in a faded blowout, his front having an almost textured quiff. The man's dark eyes were creased with a smile.

Clay smirked and walked over to the man behind the counter, "Nothin' much. How 'bout you?" Clay lifted his hand to the man and they exchanged a friendly clasp-hug dap.  _ When was I ever okay with that. _

"Ah, y'know, the uge. On your way to the shack?" The man asked, sitting back down.

Clay nodded, "Yeah- do you have a shift there today or you called out again?"

"Called out. Night shifts suck ass." The man grumbled, placing his arm on the counter and using his hand to cup his cheek. He did have severe eyebags, most likely due to many night shifts he's had in a row.

"How was the party?" The man inquired.

Clay exhaled loudly, humming an annoyed tune, "Can't remember jack." He scratched the back of his shaggy bed head, recalling his hangover, "Probably did some chick from the shack too."

The tan man dropped his arm down against the counter dramatically, "You did not."

Clay sighed and scratched his light stubble. Before he could respond, a ping from his phone alerted the two men. He dug in his back pocket and took out the device. Unlocking the phone, Clay did a half wave at the tan man and turned away from the counter.

He walked towards the aisles, reading the message from Nick, ‘dill chips and the melon milk’

Clay resisted the urge to gag and tucked his phone back in his pocket.  _ Terrible combo _

He searched for the chips Nick requested, knowing it was a hard flavor to find. Luckily; after some digging, he found the bag he needed.

Walking to the back of the store, he scanned the racks of snacks himself. He picked out a few chips and a bag of sweets for himself. Clay was now looking for the drinks he and Nick were going to have. The glass panels of the stand up fridges were somewhat foggy, yet see through.

Finding Nick's drink through the glass, Clay opened the door and plucked out two of the carbonated drinks. He backed out from the fridge and let the door swing shut. Noticing how full his arms were getting, Clay walked back to the front where the tan man was scrolling through his phone and placed the contents on the counter.

Going back, He was looking for his own drinks. Feeling yet another wave of pain from his head, he gripped his hair and softly hissed. The motion relieving him momentarily, yet caused him to see a few stars. He looked around through half lidded eyes, recalling what drinks would be best for this excruciating pain. Clay opened a door and grabbed one of the drinks. A premade coconut green smoothie.

He groaned and shut the door angrily. He decided to get the drink along with a large flavored water he picked up from the next door over. Clay walked, yet again, to the front and placed the two drinks down. He started fishing for his wallet with an annoyed expression.

The man behind the counter looked up from his phone, noticing the pile of items. He started scanning and bagging the drinks, picking up one of the cold melon drinks and sneered, "I will never understand Nick and his weird obsession with this drink." He picked up Clay's drink and looked up at him with a questionable expression, "That bad, huh?"

Clay scrunched his nose bridge with his fingers, "Zak, please."

Zak, the tan man, scanned the last two items and rang Clay up, giving him his total. Clay took out a card from his wallet and swiped it in the card reader. He pressed a few buttons on the reader and waited a moment in silence. The receipt machine sputtered and printed out the thin, waxy paper.

Zak handed over two bags, tore the receipt out, and handed it to Clay. He took the receipt, pocketed it, and lifted the two bags off the counter.

He started to walk away before Zak called him, "Wait," He ducked, disappearing under the counter. He came back up and readied his arm to throw, "catch." and threw a white bottle. The clattering of pills inside of the capsule was enough to let Clay know what they were, and caught them with his free hand. He looked down at his palm; pain killers.

Clay looked back up to see Zak already back on his phone. He huffed, a slight smile on his face as he walked to the door, "Thanks, Zak." He heard a short hum as he sauntered outside; the ringing of bells followed behind him.

He set the bags inside the basket after some rearrangement with the duffle bag and took his phone out. Clay typed away, texting Nick he was on his way. He thought for a moment, pondering whether he should listen to music again or leave it be. He shrugged and placed the phone inside the duffle bag, deciding it was pointless to listen to music when the shack wasn't too far from the 7-Eleven.

Untying the rope from the bike and bicycle racks, he coiled the cord around his left shoulder and pulled his bike out, getting back on routine. Clay pushed forward and left the parking lot, getting back on the black top and avoiding traffic.

The crystal blue water softly mopped up against the sand. People were already gathering on the beach, laying out their towels and chairs. Some were out in the water, floating on boards or body surfing. The sky was clear, with wisps of fluffy clouds here and there.

Clay inhaled deeply. The salty air filled his lungs and he felt a smile creep up on his lips. The sounds of the cars passing and seagulls squawking and crooning just seemed right. Aside from his hangover's side effects appearing every now and then, he could tell today would be just fine.

He could see a white and blue building in the distance. It sat in the sand- a good distance away from the water yet close enough to aid any in need. The lifted sidewalk gave way to multiple staircases onto the beach- however there was no ramp for bikes. Clay had to pull over and stop, get off his bike and guide it down the steps.

Being at the beach, people were starting to recognize him and his apparel, giving him a few nods of acknowledgement.

At the bottom of the steps, Clay used his bike for one of its' sole purposes: the sand. The tires were large for easy maneuverability on top of the grainy and loose surface. Checking the basket's contents one last time, he pushed off the sand and changed the bike's gears.

The clicking and the jolt of the bike assured Clay that he was on the right setting as he peddled towards the shack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its a bit short, yes, but i will try to make up for it whenever i can :D

**Author's Note:**

> Please do look at my other socials like IG and Twitter @sulzdune , it'd mean a lot (also theres a few art pieces of this fic there too) :D  
> btw hUUGEEE THANKS to my friend who helped proof read and make things better <3


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